


Rooms

by VenomlessPoison



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, DC Animated Universe, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:13:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9945746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomlessPoison/pseuds/VenomlessPoison
Summary: Depressing, mysterious one shot. As an apology to my readers bc I haven't updated my story Fifty shades of red BECAUSE life is hectic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> {This is Joker’s POV, and it was raining while I was alone at home, and I got this idea for this one shot. I haven’t re-read it or anything, so it’s shitty, beta readers are welcome, I’m open to **_constructive criticism_** :) It’s depressing btw. Read on!}
> 
> ~

~

I woke up to the unmistakable sound of rain, and the cold hands of the cool wind, caressing my body from under my clothes. I pulled the blanket around me tighter and a groan escaped my lips when the sudden warmth washed over me, gently removing those cold hands from my skin. My eyes wandered to the clock beside my bed table, and I wasn’t surprised to see that it was only 8 AM and I was already up, but it didn’t matter.

I was used to it now.

Sleep refused to come once more, and I saw no point in lying in bed, so I hesitantly peeled the blanket off myself and lazily stood up. The cold  seemed to be delighted, and at once attached to my half-bare body. I grabbed my robe, which had been discarded on the floor in the blur of last night, and pulled it on quickly, smiling briefly as I triumphed over the ice cold enemy once again. 

I was about to make my way to the bathroom, but the pattering against the French window had something about it - something enthralling that would pull me to it. I made my way to it, the clear goal of opening the door and stepping out onto the balcony repeating itself in my head. 

Rain wasn’t rare in Gotham city anymore, yet every time it showered, something nostalgic ached in my heart and mind. I didn’t really remember anything; all the past years were just hazy films, gibberish confessions, sounds of laughter and wails, fazed faces in strange places- I wasn’t even quite sure who I was anymore.

The handle was colder than usual, but that was to be expected. My hand rested on it for a moment, before wrenching it and lightly pulling the door open. A blast of cool air hit me as soon as the door creaked open, and a smile crept onto my lips as the familiar feeling glowed inside my stomach. I stepped out onto the balcony, and I realized that the rain had only just begun, for it wasn’t like the usual strong rain, but light showers sprinkling over the broken city. Wayne Island had a spectacular view of Gotham. The weather was, in my opinion, pleasant, but if I had voiced this to someone else, they would have shook their heads and disagreed.

I spent half an hour on the balcony, not really doing anything, just staring ahead trying to think, but my thoughts didn’t stop at one place. They danced, here and there, jubilant yet sorrowful. 

When the cold started biting through the fabric of my robe, I decided to finally go back inside. A low growl from my stomach scolded me, and a chuckle escaped my lips.

I had once again forgotten I had to eat.

I freshened up and then exited the large, lonely room where I resided since seemingly a long time. The hallways seemed to appear longer because of the countless shadows that played on the carpeted floor. I began making my way to the left side of the hallway, where soon there’d be a flight of stairs leading to the main entrance of Wayne Manor. The upper part on the left side of the hallway had oval windows lining the top, from where light filtered in and thus the bulbs of the corridor were only switched on during the darkest nights. The branches and leaves of the many trees that covered one side of the Wayne Manor peeked in from those little windows, and I was quite fond of the strange, eerie things they would form on the floor. The pictures they’d paint matched quite a lot with the fragments of the shattered memories that decorated my head.

A small voice sang, echoing as it reflected off the empty, prosaic walls of the dark corridor. I wasn’t sure if it was in my head, or if it was actually playing somewhere, but I hummed along with it anyway. Melancholy lyrics wrote themselves across the walls and on my lips as I twirled to the dismal tune that rang softly. I wondered if Bruce was awake.

I went past his room, and had a great urge to knock on his door, but I had never approached him first- I wasn’t allowed to. I lingered close to his door for a few minutes, running my finger up and down the oak door. I traced patterns unconsciously, feeling the rough, carved wood beneath my finger as it walked up and down. 

I wondered if Bruce was awake.

My stomach growled again, more aggressively this time, and I had to push myself away from the oak door, much to my annoyance. Sighing, I continued on my journey to the staircase. My heart pained in a way I wouldn’t have recognized a few months ago- but now it was an all too familiar feeling. Soon, I found myself standing on the first stair that led down to the main entrance. 

The stairs were one of my favorite places in the whole mansion; I had memorized each and every detail about them. Spinning on one foot, I gained balance and twirled on one spot before placing my foot on the next step. And so on I went, letting myself slip away as I continued in the same manner, spinning, drifting, like a ghost that danced to the melancholy music only he could hear. 

I had had lots of time to practice dangerous dancing moves on the stairs, now I could climb up and down the stairs just like the flowing of water, elegant, balanced and swift. I reached the bottom quite quickly, the bottom of my bare feet coming in contact with the cold marble floor. I carried on towards the right, where the vast kitchen was. 

I opened the two doors that led to the kitchen and couldn’t help but smile.

This is where the butler used to work, every morning, I’d find him here- busy at washing the dishes or preparing something even though it would be early morning. It would frustrate me and I’d pester him, throwing pointless questions at him just to see his face go red.

He couldn’t tolerate me one bit.

In my head, I imagined him to be standing at the kitchen sink and mumbling something directed at me as I made my way to the huge refrigerator. Imagining the butler made me feel a little less lonely. I said something pointless, out aloud, and imagined Alfred to face me, angrily and offer a bitter remark or sassy answer. I grabbed leftovers from last week and set them out on the kitchen table, replying to Alfred. I didn’t bother warming it before digging in, it didn’t really matter. Alfred huffed, and went out of the kitchen in a bad mood, leaving me to myself once again.

I hadn’t wanted him to leave.

After I was finished with my meal, I stood up, leaving the dishes where they were and blankly leaving the kitchen. Loneliness was walking next to me once more and suddenly the walls of the manor seemed to be closing in. My breath came out ragged, and barely enough to satisfy my lungs. Ignoring it, I walked on to the living room.

The rain spat against the windows, rude and cruel now but to me it was still a friend. My beloved piano sat in the corner of the living room, inviting me to play whatever was going through my heart and head. At first I thought it would wake Bruce up, and then he would be upset with me, so I politely refused to the piano. But then Alfred’s soft voice reminded me that Bruce loved it when I played. 

I stared at the piano for a long time, before taking a seat and breathing deeply. If I allowed myself to calm down, it was easier to express myself to the notes and keys of the instrument. My fingers hovered for a long time above the keys, and when I had built enough courage, I brought them down to earn a distorted, weeping tone. 

I lost myself to the piano soon, playing away to create tones that sang of a story not even I knew. I loved the piano, for it had the ability to tell me what I felt. Blurry, broken pieces of memories played along as well, and I didn’t realize there were tears, warm and salty, trickling down my face, until they seeped into the crack of my lips and I tasted their bitter texture. But I didn’t care. They were harmless. 

My eyes had closed by themselves somewhere in between, but when I opened them, I was greeted by Bruce, standing in the door frame, staring at me lazily. I could tell he had just gotten up because of his messy hair and night suit, and the way his eyes were still half closed. 

I didn’t do anything, just continued playing, neither did he, and he just stared on. A while passed, then he walked up to a big chair next to the window, and made himself comfortable, closing his eyes as he sank in the warmth and softness of the chair. I closed my eyes too, and continued playing, the tunes now louder because I didn’t fear Bruce waking up. 

Like that we sat, not saying a word to the other, two broken men, in a broken house, in a broken city, in a broken world. Two men who had almost had it all, two men who had no idea who they were anymore.

Two broken men.

**Author's Note:**

> Meh it's crap. Anyway, guys I'm so sorry for not updating my story, I swear I can't write the second chapter, but I will I promise. Also school is a big pile of crap and I haven't got enough time for my major major mAJor exams and it's so depressing I wanna kms. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this ♡♡


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